figlia_morbida | Ryslig

[So Mukuro's never really hung out around Hill House much. Her territory is elsewhere, and while she likes everyone here well enough, those closest to her heart also live nearby. But there's one particular resident she's been concerned about. One she's been thinking about, now that the holidays have passed and she's recovered from her emotional crisis. Now that she has the bandwidth to look after others rather than just barely clinging on herself.

So here she is, a little awkward but determined nevertheless. There's a heavy totebag slung over one shoulder, and whatever's inside is clearly hot food because it smells incredible. She has no idea what she's doing or where her target is, but that's okay, she'll figure it out as she goes. Because it's not about being perfect, it's about trying. So. Mukuro taps her claws lightly against the door her nose has led her to, speaking up in a soft, clear voice.]

Trish...? It's Mukuro.

[Trish is finding that if people don't show up for awhile...they're busy with life or a crisis or both. So it goes.

Anyways, she's lounging in her room out of habit at this point. Occasionally, she ventures out to watch some old, bad television – but tonight finds her simply laying about with her chin resting on her mattress. What is she doing? Jack and shit. If she's bored enough, she'll read the network. She used to bug Fugo, but he's mysteriously become very busy in what seems like the blink of an eye, like he's working five desk jobs. She's peeked, she's seen him with a pile of papers!

There's little to break the monotony now, and tonight appears no different...until the smell of food hits Trish's nostrils, and she perks up at how close the scent is, swiveling her head towards her door moments before Mukuro knocks.

Wait.]

Mukuro?

[Comes the incredulous reply.

It's not like Trish is unhappy to hear the werewolf, but she's awfully far from home, isn't she? The werebear rises awkwardly with how fast she moves, because part of her is worried for exactly that reason. Mukuro can watch the doorknob shake and rattle for a moment, since it takes Trish a few tries to get it still some days. It's so small compared to her huge paws...

Anyways, it swings open to reveal the werebear, looking down at Mukuro with a bowed head, asking:]

Is something wrong?

[Although...it doesn't seem like it? The food smell is coming from Mukuro, who is neither breathing hard nor anything else that would suggest panic.

What is happening.]

[Mukuro looks up at Trish, expression soft and calm. The question is... well, fair. Mukuro's never really gone out of her way to come visit before, has she. But there's no reason to beat herself up over it... she hadn't realized how much Trish might need the company until very, very recently.]

No, everything's fine.
I just - um.

[She shrugs one shoulder, the one encumbered with the absolutely delicious-smelling bag.]

...I wanted to - uh, thank you. For your gift.
I'm sorry it's late.

[Only a little bit contrite. She can go into it, how Christmas is a couples holiday in her culture and very emotionally fraught for her specifically, but... she doesn't want to put all that on Trish either, not unless Trish really wants to know. She's here to help, not burden her.]

Do you have time to come for a walk with me...?

[Trish doesn't hide the fact she's completely caught off guard? As far as she can tell...maybe Mukuro really was that touched by her gesture, which makes her more than a little embarrassed. Thank goodness she's pink to begin with and coated in fur on top of that.

She could come up with a million ways to downplay it, but Mukuro is already here? And looking at her...maybe not expectantly, but she clearly is here on a mission.

Trish brings paw to rest it on her muzzle. Muffled:]

There's no need to apologize.

[As for having time, there's no excuses there either. "Sorry, I have to lay in my room and do nothing" or "Apologies, but my time is occupied entirely by reruns of television shows I don't even like" would be even more embarrassing?

There's still a hot minute where Trish doesn't say anything or move though, caught in the floodlights of Mukuro's gentle yellow eyes.

And then the werebear sighs, paw dropping back to her side.]

Even if I didn't, I would make time.

[Which is the truth! Mukuro is good and kind and deserves at least that much from her. So Trish carefully pads over to poke her head out of her room (while bipedal, of course), peering down the hall from over Mukuro's head. No one else is around, huh?]

Did you have anywhere particular in mind?

[It's cute, the way Trish covers her muzzle with her big paw when she's shy. It's too bad Mukuro can't tell her so, if she wants to actually hang out with her--
--Oh.
That's so - nice. Treating Mukuro like she's important enough to move plans aside for... that's very kind, and it startles a soft smile out of her, one that lingers even as Trish's attention ends back on her.]

There's a spot in the woods nearby that's nice... I know it's snowy out, but I think we'll be all right.

[They have layers of clothes and warm fur. It's something she's trying to introduce slowly, the benefits of being a were. She knows it's hard to adjust, and Trish is prickly and sensitive about it. Mukuro doesn't want to upset her. But nothing will get better if she doesn't try to see the brighter side, and sometimes you need someone to help with that.

She steps back, then turns, padding her way back the way she came. Not too far, though, or too fast - Trish has plenty of time to catch up. Mukuro glances over her shoulder, murmuring:]

Did you have a nice holiday...?

[Despite everything, she hopes she did.]

[Mukuro is smiling...which isn't unusual, not in the least, but Trish doesn't expect herself to be good enough company to inspire such a nice smile. Besides, it's true. Mukuro is important!

So there's not much out there that would stop Trish from rearranging her day if people like Mukuro want her time. It's the one thing she has in abundance, and if it helps them? All the better.

Still, she can't help her bemusement, but Mukuro did say she liked being outside. It's almost like a picnic, except it's evening and snowing gently outside and purportedly freezing, although Trish hasn't felt winter's chill anywhere except her face when she's in her mostly-human form, now that she's thinking about it. Has it always been that way?

Additionally, does this mean Mukuro frequents these woods, which seem so far from her home...? Regardless, she doesn't try to argue against going out, even if in her mind she doesn't imagine either of them will want to stay for long.

She trails after the werewolf with an awkward, lumbering gait, humming before she answers:]

Yes, actually. Everyone was surprisingly on their best behavior.

[Boys, you know?

Stupid, dumb, thoughtful boys.]

What about you?

[Hopefully a stuffed bear didn't seem too juvenile for a mercenary...but Mukuro did imply she liked fluffy things.]

Edited (THANK U TRISKA MY BELOVED FRIEND) 2022-02-03 23:17 (UTC)

[Her ears stay perked to their full height as she listens. Trish is important, and even silly small talk is meaningful enough for her to pay attention to. Of course, it follows that her question would be returned to her - Mukuro shrugs again, head tilting this way and that in a sort of "eh" gesture.]

I'm not really used to celebrating. And it's - a hard day for me, for - other reasons. But - a lot of people were really kind to me, so - it wasn't bad. Just something to adjust to.

[Her tail lifts, briefly, to curl under Trish's nearest paw and then retreat. After all, she's one of those people who had made it easier for Mukuro to exist on that day, so. Thank you, it says, quietly, so as not to embarrass the other girl. She's sensitive.]

I'm glad it was nice for you.

[And she means it. Trish deserves a nice holiday. Everyone Mukuro likes does, but Trish especially seems like she's been having a hard time. She's - not completely normal, but close to Steve in that way. She's not a killer, not readily able to adapt into being a monster - it's hard, and Mukuro at least hopes to make it slightly easier, even if just for tonight.

They don't have to walk for long - Mukuro leads them to a riverbank, water rushing softly underneath a translucent sheet of ice. From her bag, she pulls out a tarplike blanket, big enough for them to both sit on and resistant to damp soaking through. It is a picnic, as Trish had thought. At night, as the snow falls, but nevertheless.

Mukuro takes her place first, busily removing containers from her bag next. Trish gets two - one smells like an absolutely fantastic curry, while the other appears to be rice balls.]

...That one is monster food, [she murmurs, glancing into Trish's eyes as she indicates the curry.] The onigiri are normal. I thought - not having to hunt might be nice.

[If she knew...Trish would tell Mukuro it means a lot that someone's willing to listen to the trivial things. Especially after her recent meeting with Doppio, and how Donatella Una loved listening to all the menial things her taciturn daughter could tell her. As if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

So it's almost typical that something mundane still has fraught connotations for the people she knows here, and Trish almost regrets asking. But Mukuro seems okay and at peace with it, and Trish's worries scatter at the feeling of Mukuro's impossibly fluffy tail brushing against the dark pad of her paw. Clearly intentional, since the wolf's tail usually sways to-and-fro and certainly not up!

She sort of looks between her paw and Mukuro's tail with a slightly puzzled expression, but seems to accept it. The gesture was a success!]

I'll admit I was shocked at how many people ended up celebrating with us. When I was little, it was always just me and my mother.

[Is what she settles on saying, offhanded.

The spot the werewolf picks is nigh idyllic, and Trish pauses to listen to the water with a flick of her sensitive ears. That's not a sound she ever thought she'd hear so crisply, and she's distracted by it while Mukuro sets up.

Trish moves to join her once the wolf settles in, and sitting is always awkward when she's meant to be on all fours, so she just sort of...plops, right on her spot. When she looks up, it's into bright yellow eyes, and she doesn't look away, even if she does flinch a little.]

...Thank you. I'd been meaning to ask you about this, actually, but I haven't felt the hunger too terribly yet this month.

[She wonders how she can, with how awful it was to kill someone. Who can have an appetite ever again after something like that? But she had to do it, because people like Mukuro won't always be around to help her.

But for now...she can ease up on herself, she supposes.

The curry smells like normal curry, at least, so that makes it simpler. Although she now has to duck her head in embarrassment because, well.

It's exactly what she complained about at Celeste's party.]

Would you be able to open it for me? I can't do anything with these paws.

[Meat-eaters have a lot of advantages over other types, honestly. They can continue to live their lives fairly close to how they used to, and they can eat from others' kills. They don't need to take a life with their own hands, or grapple with the guilt of erasing someone's soul. That still doesn't make it easy, and it certainly doesn't make it simple to accept if you think you have to eat it raw off the bone, as it were. Mukuro's more than happy to help ease Trish into it.

With a nod, she reaches to pop open Trish's container, her own long fingers and claws much more deft than the broad bear paws. That being said, she lifts her own container with her palms, in demonstration:]

If you ever have to, you can use your teeth. They're a lot more useful than you think.

[She hooks her fangs under the lid, pulling it up with little struggle or fanfare. Just a calm, neutral example of working around their limitations. Similarly, she does not use chopsticks or even a fork, knowing that it's far too difficult for Trish to maneuver. Instead, she just tilts the container to her mouth, then chews thoughtfully. This turned out good. Swallowing, she adds:]

I know - you have a lot of friends here, and you take care of each other. But I always have lots of meat, and I don't mind sharing. We're - friends. Right...?

[True, but consider: cannibalism is gross because people are gross. Trish balks at the idea of putting parts of another person in her mouth on many principles, most of them from a reasonable stance of "wow, that's fucked up" – but also the mere idea of another person's flesh on her tongue used to make her want to barf.

It still does, she thinks, but the curry has a good smell to it. Which is unfortunate.

But it is a way to manage, although she can't say she doesn't appreciate learning the reality of what they're doing to the people here from her first kill. Even if said people are reduced to something unrecognizable, she doesn't want to forget. But Mukuro's courtesy is also not forgotten in this gesture, and she does appreciate that in equal measure.

Still, Trish finds it in herself to wrinkle her nose at Mukuro's demonstration, dipping her head and muttering:]

If I have to, maybe. But I'd rather not.

[Imagine, Trish Una laving Tupperware with her own saliva. This is petty, perhaps, but Mukuro is probably not surprised.

Trish at least doesn't refuse the curry, following Mukuro's lead and carefully lifting the container with her paws to tilt it towards her mouth. It doesn't...taste like a person. What it does taste like is nearly typical curry, and she would finish the whole thing in one gulp, suddenly hungrier than she thought, but Mukuro is speaking again.

Does she have a lot of friends? Trish would have said no, a few months ago. There's a lot she still keeps close to her chest even now. But she would be lying if she didn't say she cared deeply for each and every person she's come to know here.

She lowers the container, stray curry obvious on the white of her chin.]

Of course we're friends. There's no question about it. You've helped me more times than I've been able to repay.

[Nattensfest was a good way to give back, just a little – and it seems to have made an impression, for what it's worth. Trish is glad for it.]

[Ah. Finicky, as always. Mukuro won't comment; she expects this kind of thing from Trish by now, and there's a sense of it being something acceptable to complain about. Everyone goes through horrific things here, and there's serious, awful stuff to bring up instead, but - well, that's usually painful to someone, sometime. Petty small stuff like this - it's a safe topic.

So she just hums, tail swaying slowly behind her.]

I'm glad. I mean - I'm not really used to - making friends, still. I guess.

[It still feels strange to even say. She picks up a rice ball, nibbles at it as she thinks.]

Most of my other friends... they live nearby, so I can keep an eye on them. But they're also - all different monster types. We all have some stuff in common, but...

[She shrugs one shoulder, taking another bite. Chews, swallows, manages to look back towards Trish, quietly earnest and unsure.]

...You're a were, too, so - I wanted to make sure I was - helping.

[Tell someone they're your kouhai without saying they're your kouhai.]

[It would be more surprising if she weren't finicky, huh?

Some people may find it exhausting, but Trish has somehow surrounded herself with people who don't mind her sweating the small things, and in fact seem to welcome it. Who else is going to complain about getting their hands dirty walking on all fours like a proper quadruped? It's so mundane compared to everything else a person could talk about when it comes to living as a monster.

In that way, it probably makes being a monster feel...more normal. And for Trish, more like herself. The day she accepts dirt on her person as a fact of life is the day the fog wins, frankly.

Trish listens to Mukuro speak, and for Mukuro in particular she's quiet. But it's true, she doesn't often see the werewolf because of the distance between their respective homes, and she wouldn't mind it...but it is really nice to have someone go out of their way to come see her. That means a lot.

She reaches for a rice ball too, something she's never had as an Italian, sniffing it while she thinks.]

...We do have that in common, don't we?

[Except Trish was never happy about herself as a person, but she was happy to be one.

Mukuro sheds her old face and her old world and it's like being reborn, or something. Trish imagines that's what it must feel like when being a monster does some good.

She takes the daintiest bite of rice ball that a bear can. It's tasty!]

I wonder how much more we have in common, if anything.

[Because they're drastically different people, aren't they? That remains true of everyone Trish has met even back in Italy.

But Mukuro was a mercenary, which is already a hell of a thing to consider even before everything else. If she hadn't mentioned it, Trish would never have guessed.]

You don't have to worry, by the way. You've always been helpful to me, long before I would have thought to ask.

[Mukuro can't stop a little smile, hearing that. Both because she's glad she's been so helpful already, but also... of course she'd helped without being asked. Asking for help can be humiliating or even terrifying. Asking means you might be denied, and punished for it, or told how worthless you are, or laughed at, or any number of awful things. And even if she hadn't had her prior life experience to teach her that, Mukuro lived with two people who made it a habit to never show that weakness. They never asked, because they couldn't stand finding out for sure how little they might mean to others. They never let themselves be weak, never let themselves need anyone else. Even though of course they did.

Mukuro and many, many people in their little group knew, you can't rely on anyone but yourself. But they've been unlearning that, bit by bit. And it's good to know Trish might not have ever felt like that, and that she can depend on others when she needs.]

...Good.
We have to look out for each other you know...?

[That's one truth Mukuro's kept since coming here. Even if her circle has expanded from a single person to many, they're all trusted friends and peers. If they don't protect each other, no one else will.

She finishes off a rice ball, more delicately than perhaps expected, and glances Trish's way again. What do they have in common, hm.]

Do - um. If you have questions, about - anything, I don't mind answering.
Whether it's about - me, or - this place, or advice, or. Whatever.

Edited (i'm so sorry for phone tagging) 2022-02-22 07:43 (UTC)

[Maybe it's because she's always depended on someone. Even the strongest people around her needed help, in both small ways and large, but they could solve other's problems too. They could be guides, examples. She wants to be strong enough to be someone to fall back on, like that. Someone reliable and courageous.

Mukuro is all of those things, isn't she? Mukuro is the kind of quiet strength she admires.

So it stands to reason Trish is analyzing her even now, from her actions to her words. Thus when Mukuro finishes with that, it's puzzling. Everything together, from fretting about being helpful, to the food, the mention of the fact they're both weres, to the offer of advice and such...does it seem like she needs help?

Trish tilts her head at the werewolf.]

...Are you worried about me?

[Wait.

Oh my god.

Trish puts her container down specifically so she can bury her face in her paws when it clicks. This weather is almost way too similar to that day, too, between the nighttime snow. Meaning:]

This is about Celeste's party, isn't it?

[She thought Mukuro would be too drunk to remember!!]

Edited 2022-02-28 08:11 (UTC)

[Oh no, Trish is upset - Mukuro's paws come up, open and harmless, blue pads obvious against the grey.]

N-no - I mean - yes, it - it's because of that, but it's not - uhh.

[Trish!! She's sorry! They'd been soft at each other, but it wasn't that bad, right...?? It's not like the stories she'd heard of crazy, super embarrassing stuff people did when they got really drunk at parties. They're okay. They'll recover. And it's not like anyone else saw. And even if they had, who would ever dare to make fun of them for real?]

I'm - a little worried, yeah. And I just - I know it's hard to - ask. But it's not a big deal.

[The saving grace of the shy teen. Not a big deal. They don't have to make a thing of it. Mukuro's certainly not the type to run around telling everyone Trish's every move, and she's done way dumber stuff than her anyway.]

It's just - you know. I've been a werewolf for a while, and - we're friends. I want to - I want to make sure you're okay.

[Such as the above. She is painfully earnest, murmuring like that.]

[It's true, imagine making fun of either of them. It wouldn't go very far.

However, Trish is easily embarrassed despite herself, if only because she is a teenager and it strikes her deep in her fragile, developing pride. She's an Italian who let herself get that tipsy, but she wanted it too...she knows this.

It helps that Mukuro doesn't ever laugh at her, or rib her for her idiosyncrasies.

Because it was a nice conversation. And Mukuro implicitly understood the privacy it entailed, since they're all the way out here to discuss the crux of it. If Trish is honest, that's what really flusters her. That someone has noticed she's been struggling, and only wants to help her manage. That's been her whole experience here, and she's still not sure how much she deserves it, but she only has to look askance to see a waiting hand. It's a lot to think about now...that she's not invisible anymore. It's both mortifying and heartening, a blend that makes her vaguely queasy.

Mukuro is so earnest too, enough that Trish's paws drop, and she looks at the werewolf almost helplessly.]

I know we've discussed it before...I suppose I'm mostly ashamed that very little has changed since the last time.

[Because Mukuro encouraged her to run, to test the limits of her new body.

But going home, it was almost too easy to fall right back into old habits. And Mukuro hadn't even known then how her fellow were was living. So she doesn't believe that Mukuro doesn't think it's a big deal. If it weren't, she wouldn't be here, right?

Trish's voice is soft, but when she speaks, she doesn't try to bury the raw parts. She owes Mukuro that much for coming all the way out here.]

It's like you said. You like what you are. I don't. And I'm not really sure I can change that.

That's okay.

[Softly, as she chances a look into Trish's pretty green eyes.]

You don't - need to be ashamed. And you don't have to like it.
I just think - there are parts of it you might like. And that can be enough to just - get through the rest. You know...?

[This is... hard. Mukuro's never been in the business of hope. On incremental improvements, on socializing, on interpersonal care. But she understands how to survive above all, and how to take care of her body so that she can depend on it when it counts. She can problem-solve, and she learns well. So she can apply what she does know to the people she cares about.

She's trying. As best she can. Gesturing to the curry, she continues, her voice a low murmur.]

The way we have to eat is awful for most people... so, figuring out how to make it a little more normal makes it easier.
Being a monster is scary and painful sometimes... so learning what new things you can do with it lets you find the fun parts.

[Mukuro glances up again, trying to make herself understood despite her limited vocabulary.]

You're not - wrong, to not like it. Most people hate it here. I'm - I'm the weird one, I know I am. But - it helps me see stuff people can't sometimes, that's all.

[Trish doesn't look away, for her part. Mukuro is someone she can trust, and holding her gaze is easy.

Mukuro doesn't lie. Mukuro is soft spoken. Mukuro is admirable for both.

And she speaks...of compromise, in a way that Trish can understand and appreciate. She thinks very much and very often about what she doesn't like about this body she's trapped in. To the point she can't ever fathom being happy with it, but distractions aren't forever, and when she's alone, it's just her and her new form, and nothing to separate her from it.

She remembers Mukuro showing her the physical prowess of a monster, and how impressive it is, but that has little appeal to her.

But Mukuro loves her new form, and what it allows her, so there has to be something, right?]

You're not weird, Mukuro. I've met people far weirder than a werewolf girl, if you can believe it.

[Please, believe her. There are Stand Users shaped like Daikon radishes.]

I know what you're saying too, and I think you're mostly right, but there's not a lot I can imagine doing when I'm a monster like this. My body is so large, and my paws are sort of hand-shaped, but manipulating objects is hard.

Right now, the only good thing I can say about my new form is that my fur keeps me warm. I thought I would be miserable for the winter since I'm Italian, but even sitting out here...I don't feel a single chill.

[Which is neat, but not inherently useful when coats exist. Trish is thinking though, and she and Mukuro are different enough she's wracking her brain for a starting point, since Mukuro came out all this way, and she doesn't want the other were to think she's dismissing her points talking like this.]

I know being a monster has been good for you, but out of curiosity...has there been anything at all that was difficult to adjust to until you learned to manage it?

[She nods along as she listens. It doesn't feel like Trish is dismissing or belittling her, not at all. Trish is even saying she's met weirder people, which is probably true enough as far as the other girl knows. It's just that they're such different people, from such different lives. But the question at the end - that's easy, and she nods much more firmly.]

Yes.

[Of course she had. How could she not? Even though she truly appreciates what she's become... being a monster is not a completely positive experience. None of them escaped unscathed.]

When I first started changing - I was too hurt and tired to really do anything. The first night was - bloody. I almost bit my roommate; I couldn't handle the wolf instincts at first.

[A pause, as she tries to phrase it. It makes her sound crazy, she doesn't like being vulnerable, but - it's for Trish. So. She continues in a soft, hesitant murmur.]

I feel it - like it's - there. In the back of my head. Sometimes it's really hard to control.
There are things I always had trouble with that are worse now. Crowds, loud noises - fireworks are really bad.
And my emotions are - m-more. Um. I used to - before, I was good at keeping everything - locked down. Except for anger. Now, I feel more things, more strongly - and anger is still extra hard to deal with, because now it makes me want to bite, and that's - really dangerous for me to do.

[She gestures to her jaw - moreso than just the vicious teeth and brutal strength, there's an extra factor to deal with.]

...I - m-my bite is - infectious. If I'm too upset, I - uh, I drool. This awful black gunk. That's - um. That's part of why I stayed a normal wolf, when everyone else was - little kids. My Fog form used to do it all the time. I only learned to turn it off a month later.

[It's true, but it's also generous. Mukuro hasn't hesitated to share sordid things like her mercenary past, or how much she enjoys being a monster. All within just a few encounters with her.

But that's...a safe kind of weird. There are no secrets, and therefore no surprises.

So when she asks, she knows Mukuro is so honest she won't hesitate to answer. It feels a little leading that way, but Mukuro has been so comfortable in her wolf body that it's been hard to imagine she ever struggled. Knowing she did even a little makes it feel...less like she's failed completely, and more that she simply has been slow to adjust. She might not ever be as unified in her mind and body as Mukuro is, but it would be nice to be something closer to it, right?

So it's interesting to hear that Mukuro actually has struggled with control, at least to start with. Although it does bring up a few interesting things, and Trish tilts her head.]

I remember that. You changed in front of me because that form had usable hands. It was...it definitely would have been frightening to children. But I have to admit when I think about it now, I associate it with the ramen you gave me.

[There's a huff of a laugh to go with that statement. Imagine associating a drooling, lupine behemoth with ducky ramen. But that's how it is, when it comes to Mukuro.

As for the other thing...Trish's expression turns thoughtful.]

Joking aside, I didn't realize any of that could happen. The instincts and the change in emotions, I mean. Do all monsters adopt the habits of the animal they echo? Maybe that's why I haven't been able to acclimate.

[Trish's tiny ears droop.]

When I turn into this...I still feel like myself, just bigger.

[Is her monster brain broken, were-senpai?]

[Mukuro can't help a little smile, at that. It's - sweet. It's really sweet, that Trish associates her most monstrous and terrifying form with cheap ramen and being cared for. She's very lucky to have met the people she's met, here.

The sad ears definitely get her to focus up again, but her expression stays just as soft as she speaks.]

No, not all. Some people never get any. Some people get them before the physical ones, or long after. And there are monster types that have mental changes even without being animal-based. It's pretty random.

[In her experience, they're common enough for her to warn people about it if they ask for her advice on changes, but there are absolutely those who managed to avoid anything like that.]

...I did say - you'd still be you. I'm still me.
But maybe you'll get really into putting honey in your tea. I don't know.

[Is that a joke? From the peninsula's least humorous werewolf? Gasp.]

You know - werebears are one of the biggest and strongest monsters, physically. Even regular bears can do stuff like tear off car doors and things.
I know you don't necessarily want to fight... but being able to do stuff like that is pretty thrilling.

[It's honestly funny, whenever Trish thinks about it. How incongruent things can be here, when perfectly kind people are made to wear the skin of something they're not. If it wasn't so awful to experience, she could laugh about being a bear.

It's ridiculous at its core, isn't it? Just like it was ridiculous to be served ramen by a nightmarish creature with a voice softer than a downy feather.

Although Trish isn't sure how to feel about everything associated with monster-dom being entirely arbitrary. In so many ways, Mukuro has become the wolf she resembles, and that has to make it easier to make the body and mind operate as a single unit. Having a mind that's still distinctly human piloting a completely ursine body like hers is just cruel comedy. Well, unless she wakes up one day really feeling like a bear.

She gives Mukuro a flat look.]

Oh, good. So there might still be more surprises left.

[And that look immediately gets dashed, because Mukuro is making a joke. Trish blinks, mouth falling open a little.

She places a large paw on her temple, letting it drag until it falls. A helpless motion.]

...I think Steve is starting to rub off on you.

[He made a really similar joke, once. Do they have Winnie the Pooh in Japan? Hrm.

As for the rest, Trish shrugs.]

And if I'm still me, then I just can't see my old self ripping apart cars. But I will admit I've never tried it before, for obvious reasons. [Although Spice Girl probably could punch a car to pieces...but that's neither here nor there.] Is that what you did when you first started testing your new body?

[Are you going to take her to try out her monster strength, Mukuro? Admittedly, being able to throw Steve effortlessly was...fun. But she was doing it in a fit of pique. Surely it can't be that fun all the time!]

[The comment about Steve just gets another small pleased smile. If anyone's gonna rub off on her, Steve is the nicest and normalest, so it's fine. As for wrecking cars...]

Well... not that exactly. But I did do a lot of stuff to test out my new body.
A lot of what I do is based on muscle memory, so... I had to kind of relearn a lot of it, since my proportions are all different and I'm so much stronger. So when I realized how different it was I started pushing my limits.

[She stretches out said long limbs, paw and toebeans on full display.]

That's how I learned how high I can jump now, and how fast I can run. And - running wasn't fun before, it was just a thing I was okay at. Running as a wolf feels good.

[Nodding to the depleted picnic, she glances back up at Trish's cute bear face.]

Once we're done here we can try some stuff, if you like. It'll be interesting at least.

[That's true enough, isn't it? Mukuro was a mercenary, so she had to have been deeply in tune with her body and its capabilities, so having it change to a new form entirely must have been a dizzying change. With that context, it's easier to picture the adjustment period.

It makes the difficulty on her part a little more validated too. Playing bass again with subtly longer fingers, claws and thicker pads on her fingers certainly made reacclimating herself interesting, but it was much quicker when her day form is only a change in strength and a subtle shift in form. But this body? This is not a body she ever imagined herself with.

Oh, Mukuro's toe beans are so cute though. Trish allows herself that thought before reminding herself to focus. Especially when Mukuro briefly looks her way.

She tucks her paws to her chest, very much a picture of the girl underneath the fur.]

...Sure, I'd like that. I'll admit I didn't know where to even begin with a body like this. But I have experimented a little with my other form.

[By throwing Steve, but. You know. That counts!!]

If you're there, it will be much easier.

[Despite herself, Mukuro smiles. It's brief, hesitant and shy, but it's there all the same, a little spark of surprised pleasure before she settles back into her soft neutral look. 'If you're there.' Knowing she's important enough to matter, that she can actually help - it's nice. It's exactly what she's been trying to be, for Trish. It's good to know it's working.]

Okay.

[She pops the last rice ball into her mouth, chews and swallows as she gathers the containers and such back into her bag. She's not about to leave a mess in the woods no matter how eager she is to play with Trish. And that's what this is, really; Trish doesn't need to train like Mukuro had, hasn't asked to spar like Steve. She's trying to find the joy in this existence.

Shouldering the bag once more, Mukuro stretches to her full height, hands above her head - and then settles down to all fours as she glances Trish's way. The tip of her tail is already twitching a little, back and forth, the wolf always unwilling to hide its feelings.]

I bet you can keep up with me.

[She's going to make sure of it - it'd be really rude to leave Trish in the dust when she's inviting her on this excursion, after all. But genuinely, bears are much faster than people expect. And with that, she's off, loping through the snow.]

Edited 2022-04-26 04:01 (UTC)

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, TRISH UNA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 867.53.099.99 * Zigazigah has joined 867.53.099.99 <Zigazigah> Don't talk to me. <Zigazigah>** Thanks.

Jan. 9th, just after sundown (a delayed nattensfest 2021 from your were senpai)

When Santa shows up at your door bc you need to go outside

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i love her....were senpai best senpai

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show her she can rip up trees, muku

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WERE RUCKUS

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